Writers Block
by ELunamoon
Summary: Grell has a horrible case of...writers block? What trouble is this reaper causing now... William x Grell


Grell frowned as he looked at the blank sheet of white paper in front of him. He scoffed at his unused pen. He growled at his ink-free hands. _What is he doing now…_ William T Spears thought with exasperation as he looked over at the head-ache causing Shinigami. Grell had been sitting there for a good two hours, mumbling inaudible curses and balling up paper only to have it thrown across the room and hit at the wall where it sank to the floor. In was incredibly, undeniably, annoying to watch.

"Sutcliff." William said after he walked over to the small, paper cluttered desk where Grell was sitting behind then glared at the red head until he looked up at him.

"Yes, Will, what do you want? I'm busy." Grell said agitatedly with furrowed eyebrows. This certainly was unlike Grell. To give a response the completely lacked a flirtatious pass and a lewd intention was suspicious. But this odd behavior did not make Will any less piqued about the greeting he got.

"What I want is to know why you are once again neglecting your work and busying yourself with something completely irrelevant to your job." William said, not removing his glower.

The over dramatic man threw himself across the desk and let out a loud melodramatic wail. "I am trying to write! I have found myself caught in the horrible net that is Writers Block!" Grell said; all but banging his head against the desk.

"You can make any simple task into something extremely difficult…" William said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, how can you get Writers Block when all you have to do is write a quick report on the souls you have reaped this month."

"Not with that!" Grell cried out, turning to the older shinigami. "I am writing a novel." he said simply.

William blinked. "A…novel?" he repeated dumbly. _Really…That is what this man is wasting his time on and getting so upset over?_

"Yes. A novel filled with romance, desire, tragedy, hate, and of course sex! It really is very difficult to find good books like that fit that description out there. Well, ones that aren't in the process of being boycotted… So I am writing my own!" Grell said proudly acting once again in character.

"Have you even had any experience with writing something like that?" the dark haired shinigami asked, wondering how in the world someone such as Grell could possibly dedicate himself to writing an entire novel.

"Actually I have!" Grell responded, mock-offended at his writing skills being in question. "I actually have written quite a few short romance stories and have sold them to bookstores in England where they have sold quite nicely at cheap prices. But Madam Juliet wants to grow in her writing and evolve from a dime novelist to a full blown author!" Grell said a familiar sparkle set in his eyes; the same sparkle that shines when he talks about acting or finding true love.

"Madam Juliet?" William asked with an embittered tone; picking up one of the crumpled balls of paper off Grell's desk. Opening it up he looked at lines and choppy paragraphs crossed out with black ink. Some even had small doodles on the corners a result of frustrated boredom, most likely.

"My pseudonym." Grell replied with a smile.

"Why are you wasting your time over something as trivial as this when you should be working on the work that was assigned to you days ago?" William said resuming with his earlier glare.

"I've tried!" Grell lied, both of them knowing very well that he hadn't even made the attempt. "But I get so distracted by the fact that I haven't written for a few months now … Yet every time I lay down a fresh sheet of paper, no matter how many ideas swim through my head, I still can't find a way to put it in words." Grell ended with a slight pout to his lips.

"I don't see why you are upsetting yourself over this." William said. Why was he working himself up over this… A large stack of papers caught William's eye. He picked it up and read the title _A Rose's Blind Desire_. Hn. Seemed like something Sutcliff would write.

"You don't understand, Will!" Grell cried again throwing up his arms.

"No I don't. And you need to get back to work. Because I somehow am always blamed for your mess ups." William replied setting the group of papers back on Grell's desk then delivering a hard smack to the noisy shinigami's head with his death scythe.

"Will…~" Grell whined rubbing his newly bruised head. William was about to turn around and leave when Grell grabbed the lower part of his suit sleeve. "Read this." he demanded shoving the story William had just been holding into his hands.

"If I do you must get back to work." William bargained. Reading a short manuscript would be nothing if Grell actually finished what he was supposed to do…

"I'll try…" Grell trailed off looking away.

"Sutcliff." William replied warningly, lifting his death scythe slightly in a threat filled motion.

"Okay, Okay!" Grell said raising his hands in defeat.

William gave Grell once last look before he returned to the other side of the room where his own office was located. He sat down at the chair behind his desk and placed his assigned reading down. Picking up a file thick with paperwork, the god of death resumed with his work. Or tried to. The temptation of reading whatever that trouble making, insolent man has created was all too appealing. Sighing, Will replaced his work and picked up the story; beginning to read….

~x~

Several hours later, it was the end of the work day and all other shinigami had gone home. Well, most. William had just flipped the last page of _A Rose's Blind Desire _and was in complete awe. Some chapters had him held in suspense and some almost had him blushing at the intimacy. Almost. The story all together was a complete work of genius. But what confused William is how could this wonderful piece of prose be written by….him?

William was tempted to actually go out and buy this particular story; he enjoyed it so much. But no. Such an idea was completely preposterous. William pushed that thought aside and headed out the door to return Grell's story all the while thinking how much work he neglected.

Upon arriving at Grell's desk for the second time the day; William laid eyes on a sleeping Grell. His long red hair spilt messily all around him, his upper body sprawled on the surface of his desk, glasses pushed up on his head, balls of paper surrounding him, and was softy breathing.

William sighed as he picked up the discarded red jacket that had been thrown on the ground and draped it over Grell's shoulders. Really how troublesome this man could be… At looking from the amount of unfinished work on his desk; he hadn't even attempted to complete his assigned tasks. Well…That was to be expected.

William left the office and headed for his own residence; deciding to give Grell a time to write so as to avoid him purposely slacking off. It was only then as he arrived at his door that he realized that he had forgotten to return Grell's manuscript.

Oh well. He could always return it tomorrow. After he re-read it…


End file.
